


girl i met on the internet

by ImSoSupernova



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Islamophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 20:19:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15648213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImSoSupernova/pseuds/ImSoSupernova
Summary: “Hi guys!” Eva dumps her bag and tray in front of an empty seat at the table, and then immediately grabs another chair from a different table for her new friend. “Everyone, this is Noora! She just absolutely saved my ass in Spanish class so I thought she could come sit with us. Noora, this is Chris, Vilde, and Sana.”Noora…Chris’s phone pings with a notification and the name of this new girl is still bouncing around Sana’s head like an alarm bell, and then the new girl, Noora, turns to shake Sana’s hand and then meets her eyes and freezes like a deer in headlights–And everything falls together, and Sana remembers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi yall!!! this fic was written for the skam reverse bang 2018, which was honestly so much fun!! huge thanks to julia for organizing all this <3 <3
> 
> also, i'd like to thank fanni, my wonderful artist, for creating such a [beautiful video](https://youtu.be/rGJbc-yFFoU) for me to work with!! you're so amazing and talented and fun, i love you so much <3 <3 also everyone go watch that vid now before reading my fic!
> 
> and finally, huge shoutout to gina for being such a wonderful and thorough beta!! you've been so incredibly helpful, thank you so much <3 <3 
> 
> the title for this fic was based on the song of the same title by girli! also, the end scene of this chapter, the one at the party, was vastly inspired by the Mood of the song "the end of love" by florence + the machine!

“...and when they finally broke into the background, it was totally empty! And  _ totally  _ trashed. There was toilet paper and soap and toothpaste  _ everywhere, _ and apparently the guy was an actor or something? Cause there was fake blood everywhere too. The guy who was hosting the party was  _ soooo _ pissed!”

Chris and Vilde both burst out laughing at the end of Chris’s story, and Sana grins too. She hasn’t been paying one hundred percent attention to her friend’s story, just enough to know that it’s another one of the fun, ridiculous party stories that Chris seems to have an endless supply of. She hasn’t been paying full attention not because she doesn’t love to hear about these stories, but because something’s not quite right about the table. Just a little off. 

“Where’s Eva?” she asks. 

Vilde looks up. “Umm, I don’t know. Was she in school today?”

Chris points with her spoon. “There she is.” 

Sana looks over to where she’s pointing, and sees that Eva is indeed hurrying over to their table. But she’s not alone. She’s pulling along another girl along by the hand. A tall girl, with a bob of white-blonde hair and a candy-striped white and red button-down shirt, laughing and smiling as Eva tugs her along. “Who’s that?” Vilde asks, voicing the question that Sana feels they’re all asking.

Except not  _ quite.  _ There’s something about this girl, something Sana can’t quite put her finger on. Something that makes her think she already knows the answer to the question Vilde’s just asked. But that’s impossible. She shakes her head. It’s probably nothing. After all, how many hundreds of blonde girls does she see everyday, living in Norway?

“Hi guys!” Eva dumps her bag and tray in front of an empty seat at the table, and then immediately grabs another chair from a different table for her new friend. “Everyone, this is Noora! She just absolutely saved my ass in Spanish class so I thought she could come sit with us. Noora, this is Chris, Vilde, and Sana.”

_ Noora… _

Chris’s phone  _ pings _ with a notification and the name of this new girl is still bouncing around Sana’s head like an alarm bell, and then the new girl,  _ Noora,  _ turns to shake Sana’s hand and then meets her eyes and freezes like a deer in headlights--

And everything falls together, and Sana remembers.

 

_ Sana’s in middle school and it’s her against everyone else in the world. She’s hated at school and hides herself away at home in her room, with nothing but her computer to keep her company. She’s not sure exactly what possesses her to make a Tumblr. It’s not like she’s heard great things about the site, more like it’s a cesspool of porn and introverts. But the feelings inside her, the sadness, the ANGER at the injustice of it all keeps building up inside her, makes her want to do something small but drastic, a “fuck you” against all the rules. So she makes one. The URL is hard to think up at first, but she finally decides on “therealsana”. It’s accurate, she thinks. It’s the only place where she really says what she’s thinking, truly expresses herself. _

_ She finds a bunch of Muslim bloggers to follow and begins to share more about her experiences, the harassment and cruel words and threatening gestures. She even posts a few poems she’s written, the kinda shitty, overdramatic ramblings of a 14-year-old, sure, but it’s nice to have a place to post her feelings. She doesn’t have many followers and no one really interacts with her, but she doesn’t really care. She just enjoys the little space she’s carved out for herself. _

_ Until one day, when her phone lights up with notifications that tell her she’s got a new follower, and they’ve liked her past 20 posts or so. And then her phone lights up again. The user, her new follower, has sent her a message. _

 

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ hey! _

 

_ Sana’s heart thuds in her chest. Here is a new person, someone she’s never talked to before. A new person who has read all her angsty posts and poems and liked them anyway, a person who wants to get to know her. She can't believe her eyes. She hurries to type a response, but then stops as a horrible thought enters her mind. _

_ Suddenly, she wonders if this is some sort of sick joke, another attempt of those awful kids at school to hurt and humiliate her. Is it possible that they've found her tumblr, and now they're going to take away her one safe place? The lightness dissolves in her stomach, and dread sinks in, heavy like a stone as she starts to think rationally again. Can't she have  _ any  _ good thing in her life? Sana wants desperately to trust her, to make her a friend and confide in her. But the last thing she wants is to get hurt again.  _

_ Her fingers hover over the keyboard, trying to figure out what to type. Finally, she decides to be casual, not let them know that she could be onto them. _

 

**_therealsana:_ ** _ hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! _

 

_ She glances at the message again and immediately cringes. What is she, twelve? This is so embarrassing, she can’t ruin this so soon. Thinking quickly, she types another message. _

 

**_therealsana:_ ** _ oops my cat stepped on my keyboard heheh _

 

_ It’s total BS, of course. She doesn’t even have a cat, unless you count the stray cat she and her family sometimes leave scraps for. But maybe if it is a kid from her school it'll throw them off, make them think they've gotten the wrong Sana. And if this girl is real, maybe it can be a funny joke Sana can tell her later. _

 

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ lol  _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ but hi! im noora, i love your poetry! _

 

_ Sana feels herself smile, despite herself. This girl seems genuinely nice. But it's too easy for people to make fake accounts, and she can't trust that easily yet. She's got to investigate more. _

_ Sana clicks on the new blog and begins to scroll. It seems like a pretty normal blog, a collection of memes and gifsets with a good amount of feminist and activist posts. What really stands out to Sana is that it seems the blog has been around for a while. When she scrolls, there doesn't seem to be any end in sight, and checking the time stamps shows posts from days, weeks, and, after scrolling for a few minutes, even a month ago. If it's a fake blog, someone’s been at it for a while. And Sana can't honestly see those awful kids putting in that much effort, thinking that far ahead. Maybe this is a real person, after all. The thought fills her with so much excitement that it scares her. She's got to keep it cool for now. _

 

**_therealsana:_ ** _ aww thank you :) _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ of course!!! _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ you have such a good way with words and your descriptions are so moving and vivid!!!!!!! i can imagine everything you write so well it's honestly amazing <3 _

 

_ Sana reads the message over and over again. It seems genuine, kind. But could it all just be an act? Sana pictures a group of kids from school grouped around a computer, giggling as they type. Sana presses her lips together. Would they really be this articulate? _

 

**_therealsana:_ ** _ wow ive never had someone read my poems that carefully b4!! _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ its so good!!  _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ ur blog is so cool 2,  u seem like a rlly neat person! _

 

_ Sana sees in her head, almost as clearly as though it's really in front of her, the fork in the road she's reached. She could stay where things are safe, finish this conversation and never come back, alone but unable to be hurt by others.  _

_ Or she could take this risk. Trust this girl who sounds so genuine.  _

_ Sana takes a breath and makes her choice. _

 

**_therealsana:_ ** _ thank u <3 _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ u seem like a rlly neat person 2! _

 

_ And that’s how it all began. _

 

Sana and Noora are still frozen, still staring at each other, for what feels like an eternity. But then Noora smiles, grabs her hand, and shakes it, saying, “Great to meet you, Sana!” and Sana’s left reeling.

For a moment she thinks she’s imagined it all. That she’s projecting, and it’s just a coincidence that this girl speaks Spanish and has the same name as that girl she once met on the internet. But  _ no, _ she thinks. She  _ saw  _ that flash of recognition in Noora’s eyes. She didn’t imagine that. It  _ is  _ Noora, and Noora remembers her, but for some reason, she’s acting like she never knew her at all.

 

Sana sits on her bed, staring at her phone. 

She’s reading through the messages they sent each other; the gifs, the memes, the cringey early teenager message speak.

She can’t miss the affectionate tone of the messages, the warmth in which they talked with each other. The “*hugs*” and “*kisses*”, the “*nose boop*”s. The “I love u”s. She scrolls up as far as she can go, until her phone glitches and won’t load anymore. Then she scrolls all the way back down again, until she sees some of the last few messages she sent her.

 

**therealsana:** noora….ive been thinking a lot and reading a lot of posts and thinking and i think--i dont think im straight. i think i might be bi.

**noorasaidso:** omg sana

**noorasaidso:** ive been thinking the same thing

**noorasaidso:** that i might be bi

**therealsana:** omg

**therealsana:** wow!

**therealsana:** noora 

**therealsana:** i think…im thinking i rlly like u. like LIKE u…

**noorasaidso:** oh wow…

**noorasaidso:** sana…i think i LIKE like u too 

 

Her phone chirps with a notification. A Facebook friend request. From Noora. Her heart leaps in her chest. She taps on it, then hesitates. Earlier today, Noora acted like she didn’t even know Sana.  _ Now she’s sending me a friend request?  _

Her fingers hover over the screen. Should she accept? Is it possible that Noora really didn’t remember her? _ No,  _ she decides. She saw the look in Noora’s eyes.

Before she can think twice of it, she hits the  _ Accept  _ button. 

Her phone immediately buzzes with another notification. A message, from Noora. Sana can’t believe her eyes.  _ Already? _ Her hands shake a little as she taps on the banner. 

 

**Noora Sætre:** Sana! I can’t believe it! I knew you lived in Norway but I didn’t realize you lived in Oslo!

Sana shakes her head in disbelief. After ignoring her at lunch, Noora thinks she can just message her like it’s nothing? Like she never acted like Sana didn’t exist to her? That nothing happened between them? Before she can stop herself, she types out a response and hits send.

 

**Sana Bakkoush:** Why didn’t you say this at lunch? 

**Sana Bakkoush:** You acted like you didn’t know me at all. 

**Sana Bakkoush:** I didn’t even know if you recognized me or not.

Noora’s profile picture appears under the message, and Sana can tell that she’s read it. The little texting bubbles appear in the corner, disappear, and appear again. 

 

**Noora Sætre:** I’m sorry, Sana.

**Noora Sætre:** I kind of panicked. I’m sorry.

**Noora Sætre:** The thing is, I’m not really...out yet. To anyone. And I’m not ready to be out yet.

**Noora Sætre:** I’m really sorry to ask this, but can you please not tell anyone about that or about us yet? Please? 

**Noora Sætre:** I’m sorry.

 

Sana stares at the messages on her phone, barely comprehending what she’s seeing.  _ Not tell anyone...about us... _ The words blur on her screen, and Sana realizes she’s crying. A familiar kind of sadness, of numbness, is closing over her again. It’s the same feeling as before. It’s all happening again.  _ Fuck… _

She taps out her response, and then throws her phone on the bed, away from her.

 

**Sana Bakkoush:** I’m not out to anyone here yet either.

**Sana Bakkoush:** Your secret’s safe with me.

 

Sana sits stock-still at the lunch table, food untouched. 

Across the table is Noora, all wavy white-blonde hair and red lipstick, grinning and laughing at some joke that Eva’s just told, leaning so close to her that Eva’s hair is brushing her shoulder and their faces are almost touching. Vilde and Chris are laughing too, and save for Sana everyone’s having a great time.

Sana realizes that she’s dreamt of this moment before--Noora, effortlessly blending into her group of friends as though she’s always been a part of it. Except in her dreams, she’s where Eva is, telling a brilliant joke that’ll make Noora beam and curl up to her. And in her dreams, neither of them are hiding parts of themselves from the rest of the group. 

But she promised, and she can’t really blame Noora  _ that  _ much, seeing as she still hasn’t had the chance or the ability to come out to her friends. So for now, she’s just got to sit and watch Noora and Eva smile and lean on each other, eyes only for each other, and ignore the sinking in the pit of her stomach.

 

_ It took her a long time to warm up to Noora. Months. But she'd wanted to believe so hard, and Noora had been so kind and patient to her that she'd finally melted her down. And when she did, and Sana finally opened up to her, it was like a watershed, like the gaping hole in her heart had finally been filled. It was the best thing in her life. _

_ Sana can recall the exact day when things shifted, and she realized that this really was for real. It’s the day when, after months of taunts and threatening messages, the kids pull off her hijab in front of the entire class. Even now she can still remember their jeers and laughter, playing catch with it over her head, the worst game of monkey-in-the-middle. And the teacher just looking on as she screamed and cried and tried, in vain, to catch the flying piece of cloth, to cover herself once again. How she swore to herself that she would  _ never  _ go back, but then when her parents asked how her day went, she lied and smiled and said things were fine. And how she closed the door to her room and posted one of her angstiest, but also probably best poems on Tumblr, and how Noora saw it. _

 

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ omg sana what happened? are u ok? :((( _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ im ok. but im NEVER going back to school again. _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ why? what happened? _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ its ok if u dont wanna say but sana, i care about u and im here for u _

_ Sana remembers how that message, the simple presence of those words, the  _ i care,  _ made her sob. And how suddenly she couldn’t bring herself to type  _ dont worry im fine  _ and leave it at that, how, despite all her instincts to stand strong and never show weakness, to keep her feelings inside and not trust the invisible person on the other side of the screen, she finds herself telling her  _ everything.

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ holy fudge sana _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ thats not ok _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ thats not ok at all _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ what the hell??? _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ pardon my french but FUCK! sana i am so so so sorry that that happened to you what the HELL _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ is there anyone you can tell? a teacher, your parents, anyone? _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ i guess...i guess i could tell my parents _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ but idk…….they worry so much about me i dont want them to worry more _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ sana they would want to know about this. what if they find out from someone other than u and realize u were hiding this? theyd be so sad _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ i guess… _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ sana, please tell your parents about this _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ please...for me? _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ …...ok. i will. _

 

_ And she does.  _

_ One week later, she’s enrolled at a new school with more Muslim students.  _

 

_ She and Noora talk about everything after that. Noora talks about how she’s living in Madrid, how her parents have always seemed so much more in love with each other than with her, how she spent twelve years being sidelined and sick until their friends noticed and they couldn’t afford to ignore her anymore. How she was hospitalized for three months, and as soon as she left they sent her to live with her aunt in Madrid.  _

 

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ but in the end they were right. im so much happier here than i was with my parents _

 

_ Sana tells her all about her new school, how the kids are better here but still grate on her sometimes, more micro-aggressive than actually aggressive. But it’s okay because she’s got Jamilla now, a new friend of her brother’s who’s decided to take her under her wing. She gives advice to Sana and death glares to anyone who gives her shit, and Sana doesn’t feel as anxious anymore, doesn’t feel that heavy weight in her stomach when she wakes up in the morning. She’s got Noora, and Jamilla, and Jamilla’s friends. And the thing with Noora is becoming bigger, more all-encompassing, more  _ real,  _ just more  _ MORE  _ than she’s ever felt before… _

_ Until the day she logs in and sees the horrible, cold ‘-deactivated’ next to Noora’s URL, with no explanation as to WHY.  _

 

“Beer man comes through again!”

Chris rolls three bottles across the table and hands Sana a bottle of cherry soda, then pops the cap off her own. Eva and Vilde cheer and reach for the bottles. Sana laughs and clinks  _ cheers _ along with them. It’s a typical Friday night, pre-gaming before whatever big event party of the week Eva or Vilde or Chris have scored invites to or think they can get away with crashing. They’re sitting in Eva’s brightly-lit kitchen and toasting to good health and cute boys (and cute girls, Sana always adds silently) and all feels nice and warm and right in the world.

Well, not quite. There’s a fifth girl sitting around Eva’s counter now, and the beer that Chris chose for her sits conspicuously untouched in front of her, still lying on its side. Waiting for someone to pick it up and drink it, except, Sana finds herself remembering, they’ve got the wrong someone in mind.

 

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ sana r u up? _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ yeah whats up? _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ nothing rly just wanted 2 talk _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ just got home from a party _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ ohh _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ how was it? _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ gross and bad _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ 15 yr old boys r disgusting _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ ughhh tell me about it _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ theyre literally the WORST _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ they kept trying to get me to drink. i HATE alcohol. then they call me a loser or a prude for not drinking and wont leave me alone. i hate it. i wish boys would ALWAYS leave me alone :( _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ ughhhh i can relate _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ people love to try and get the muslim girl to drink _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ its so fcking stupid!  _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ if u have 2 be drunk 2 have a good time, ur the lame one! _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ HONESTLY! _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ these kids think theyre so cool blacking out every weekend, see how cool they feel when theyve got massive brain damage around age 30! _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ LOL UR SO RIGHT! _

**_noorasaidso:_ ** _ FCK i love u sana _

**_therealsana:_ ** _ awww i love u! _

 

“Hey.” Eva holds the bottle out to Noora. “Cheers, Noora!”

Sana opens her mouth without thinking, to explain that Noora doesn’t drink and hasn’t since she was fourteen. But then Noora catches her eye across the table. “I don’t drink,” she says quickly. “Sorry, I should have told you before.”

“It’s cool!” Chris snatches the bottle from Eva’s hand. “More for the rest of us!”

 

At the party, the music is blasting so loud Sana can feel the bass vibrating in her bones, and she’s keeping a close eye on her drinking friends to make sure she can get them out of the house as fast as possible once the police inevitably come. Generally, at this point she’s the only sober one in the house.

Except now. Because she’s no longer the only one drinking at parties.

Sana isn’t exactly sure how it happens. The evening kind of passes in a blur of loud music and people dancing and laughing and falling all over each other, and at one point Chris pulls her in to dance with her and Vilde and Eva and Noora and they’re all holding hands and jumping up and down and shouting the words to the song at the top of their lungs and after the song ends the girls all go outside to cool off and get some air and they’re laughing and giggling together and then Chris says something about getting more drinks. And suddenly it’s just Sana and Noora, standing together on the lawn and shivering a little in the cool night air.

Sana doesn’t say anything. And Noora doesn’t say anything, and the silence between them is so heavy, so weighted that it feels to Sana like there’s a huge, bulky invisible person wrapping itself around them, crushing Sana’s ribs until she can barely breathe--

“So…” she says hesitantly. She doesn’t really know why she’s speaking. “You still don’t drink, then?”

Noora starts a bit. Sana realizes this is the first time they’ve admitted what happened to each other, face to face, and she immediately wants to take her words back. But then Noora nods and gives her a small smile. “Yeah. Still can’t hold my liquor.” 

She laughs a bit. Sana doesn’t. Noora looks at her. “You too, yeah?”

Sana gestures to her hijab. “Yeah. Muslim.”

“Right.” Noora nods.

The silence that follows is even more crushing, overbearing than the first. Sana feels a sinking in her chest, as if her heart and lungs and ribs have suddenly turned to stone, crushing the rest of her organs. She finds the question readily on her lips, and feels herself gasping as she asks it.

“Why did you do it, Noora? Why did you delete?” she whispers. “You left me...alone.” 

Sana can feel tears welling up but she pushes them down the best she can. Then she looks into Noora’s eyes and realizes that Noora is tearing up too.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, “I’m so sorry, Sana. I--I never should have done that. You deserved so much better.”

“But  _ why?”  _ Sana pushes,  _ “Why _ didn’t you at least tell me? I thought you had died or something! I googled the obituaries in Madrid everyday to look for an article about a 15-year-old girl named Noora!”

Her eyes spill over. Sana doesn’t even bother to try and wipe away the tears.

Noora shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she says again, “I’m sorry I--I--”

“What?” Sana asks desperately,  _ “What?” _

“I couldn’t take it!” Noora bursts out. “Sana, I--I-- _ loved  _ you! I was in love with you! And I couldn’t take it and--and--and I didn’t know how to deal with it and so I panicked and deleted and pretended that I had never even met you and I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! That was so fucked up of me. I’m so fucking sorry Sana, I’m going to regret that for as long as I live!”

Sana feels like she’s been punched in the stomach.  _ Sana, I loved you… _ The tears are really coming now, flowing faster and faster and she can’t choke down the sob building up in her throat. She shakes her head vigorously and wipes her nose on her sleeve.  _ “Fuck,  _ Noora,” she gasps. “How is that supposed to make me feel.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Noora’s crying as hard as she is, and she reaches over to try and wipe a tear from Sana’s cheek. Sana pushes her hand away.

_ “No,” _ she says, “No, you don’t get to do that now. I’m sorry. You don’t get to act like you never even knew me and then do that now that we’re in private. It’s not fucking fair.”

Noora’s face crumples and her shoulders heave as she sobs. Sana can’t think of anything to do but stand there and cry too, the two of them standing next to each other but completely separate.

 

It’s a mercy when the cops finally show up, and they’re pushed out with the rush of the escaping crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

The weeks go by.

Sana doesn’t get a chance to talk to Noora in private again, and honestly, she isn’t really looking for one. Being around Noora, even with the rest of the girls, is almost physically painful to her--she’ll see Noora there, talking and laughing with her friends, the friends  _ she  _ made  _ first,  _ as though everything is right in the world, as though there is no history, as though she never told Sana she  _ loved  _ her--and it feels like her heart’s breaking, clean in two.

If Noora feels the same, she doesn’t show it. She just sits next to Eva and laughs at her and Chris’s jokes. And whenever she and Sana accidentally make eye contact, they both look away as quickly as they can.

There are times when Sana wonders if Noora’s about to say something, in the fleeting few moments when all the rest of the girls have gone to throw away their trash and they're suddenly alone together. And they find themselves glancing at each other, even though Sana tries her best to look away and ignore her, and it  _ looks  _ like Noora’s about to open her mouth and say something, but then the girls are back and it's over. And Sana can't bring herself to try and get more of these moments. She just  _ can't.  _

Sana doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t  _ want  _ things to be like this. She  _ wants _ to be able to hang out with her friends and have fun,  _ wants  _ to be able to see Noora and feel nothing, or at least nothing more than general pleasure,  _ wants  _ to be able to not dread going to school everyday because she knows she’ll see  _ her.  _ But that’s not what she gets--instead, she’s stuck everyday living some life that isn’t actually hers, hiding her feelings from everyone around her. And even though it hurts, feels like it’s  _ killing  _ her sometimes, she’s still not willing to out Noora like that. 

So Sana begins to phase her way out of the group, sits at the end of the table during lunch and makes up excuses about homework and religion and family matters in order to get out of hanging out after school or going to parties on weekends. It hurts. It hurts like  _ hell.  _ But it’s the best she can do, for now. Then, the only person being hurt is herself.

 

“Are you doing okay, habibti?” Sana’s mama asks her one day as she’s doing her biology homework at the kitchen table.

“Huh?” Sana asks distractedly. She guesses she’s been sighing or tapping her pencil too much, and makes a mental note to focus on stopping. “Oh yeah--yeah, I’m fine, Mama.” 

“Okay,” Mama says. She continues her dinner preparations for a few minutes, chopping up carrots and onions and tomatoes with careful, practiced precision. Then she pulls out the chair next to Sana with a  _ squeak  _ of wood on linoleum. “Alright, honey. Now, tell me what’s really going on.”

_ She always knows... _ Sana looks up at her mama, then looks away. She can’t stand to see those eyes, so soft and dark and gentle but always able to see so easily into her soul. She feels her eyes begin to burn as she says, “I told you, it’s nothing.”

The chair creaks a little as Mama shifts in her seat. “Alright,” she says. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. But please don’t pretend that I’m blind. I can see how you look at your phone and sigh, how you grow frustrated with your work, even in your favorite subjects. You used to go out with your friends almost every day after school, but suddenly now your Baba and I are coming home to see you already here. You do not need to tell me if you do not want to--I will not force you. But I am your mother, and I am worried about you, and I am here to listen to you talk, always. Because I love you.”

The dam breaks. Sana feels her eyes welling up, and she knows that she’s not going to be able to stop these tears from spilling over. Before she knows it, every thought she’s had about keeping it cool is gone, and she’s sobbing into her mama’s arms. “I’m sorry,” she hears herself gasping, “I’m sorry, Mama, I just--I don’t know where to start and everything’s just a mess and--I don’t know! I don’t know.”

And Mama just holds her close to her chest, stroking the sides of her face and rubbing her back and whispering softly into her ear. “Oh, habibti…”

Sana looks up at her mama. Her stomach and throat feel so tight that she can barely breathe. She knows what she has to say, and the thought scares her so much that she hardly feels conscious. But still, somehow, she still notices her mouth opening, hears her own voice say, “Mama...I’m gay. And--and there’s a girl I like, and--it’s just so complicated, and--I don’t know what to do.”

She watches her mama’s face anxiously, not quite sure of what reaction to expect. Surprise, she figures, but also maybe worry, fear maybe? She hopes with all her heart not  _ anger,  _ but she can’t really expect _ happiness _ , exactly, either. And then her mama bursts into tears, and Sana has absolutely no idea what this means.

“Mama?” she asks hesitantly. “Mama? Are you okay?”

Mama blows her nose and nods. “I’m so sorry, habibti, it’s just--I love you so much. And--and I am so  _ happy  _ that you wanted to share that with me.” 

This reaction is so unexpected that Sana finds herself laughing.  _ “Yes,”  _ she cries, “Yes, of course, Mama! Thank you,” she says seriously, because that is exactly how she feels.  _ Thank you. _

“Of course, my daughter,” Mama says, “what kind of mother do you think I  _ am?  _ But now, come on.” Her face turns back to motherly mode. “Tell me about this girl. What is happening?”

Sana feels her stomach drop again. She’s almost forgotten it all for a second. “Oh…Mama. I don’t even know where to begin.”

Mama takes her hand. “Well, why don’t we just try? Tell me as much as you need.”  
And so Sana does. She tells her everything, about being 14 and being so alone and how Noora saved her, basically,  how she said she loved her and then left her, betrayed her like she always promised she wouldn't. Only to show up and turn her whole life upside-down years later, say she was in love with her in private and then act like nothing ever happened with everyone else. And how now she’s stuck. 

Sana tells her mama everything, and the whole time she sits there, looks her in the eyes, and listens. And when Sana’s finished and wiping away tears again, her mama squeezes her hand and says, “Habibti...you care about this girl, but if she is not able to be honest about what you have had together, then it’s not the right time for this relationship. It seems that she has a lot she still needs to work through, so she’s going to need time. For now, you must not isolate yourself from your friends! You need those relationships in your life to keep you going. I understand it is hard to be there with all of them at the moment, but you must have at least one friend to confide in, right?”

Sana smiles. Her mama is right, just like always, and now she knows exactly what to do. “Yeah.” She grins at her mama. “I do.”

 

“No  _ way,” _ Chris says, mouth dropped open. “You and--Noora and you-- _ wow.” _ She plops down on a park bench. “That’s  _ insane.  _ That’s like--that’s fucking  _ fate  _ or something!”

“Don’t get too excited,” Sana says quietly. “She’s--she’s not exactly looking for us to have a relationship now.”

_ “Still,”  _ Chris insists. “There’s gotta be  _ some  _ reason you were thrown together again. The universe is trying to send you a message or something!”

Sana shakes her head, but she can’t help laughing a little. “You’ve been spending too much time with Vilde. You gonna read my star chart too or something?”

“That’s such a Capricorn thing to say, actually.” Chris gives her a cheeky grin. Sana rolls her eyes. “But you’re not wrong, I  _ have  _ been spending an awful lot of time with Vilde. I’ve missed you. I’m sorry you were going through this alone.”

Sana feels her heart swell in her chest, and she reaches over to give Chris a hug. “I love you,” she says. “Thank you so much for listening.”

“Of course!” Chris squeezes her close and rocks her back and forth. “You’re my best friend!”

“Really?” Sana grins. She feels so legitimately honored. “What about Vilde?”

“Aww, she is too.” Chris squeezes Sana’s cheek. “I have enough love for all of you girls to be my best friend.”

“You’re amazing,” Sana says. “I mean it.”

“Aww!” Chris takes Sana’s face in her hands. “So are you! I mean it.”

Sana pulls her into a hug again. Then she says, “You know you can’t tell anyone about this yet, right? It’s not the time for everyone to know.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course!” Chris says. “Pinky swear.”

Sana grins and links her pinky with Chris’s. 

“Hey,” Chris says. “I know things are tense right now--you don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course--”

“What’s up?”

“Well.” Chris shifts in her seat. “There’s a party this weekend, and...I don’t know...all the girls and I are planning on going--and we all miss you, I know we do--do you wanna come?”

“Ummm…” Sana’s not sure. She’s missed the girls too, so much that it hurt to look at their Instagrams or their group chat, but she’s not sure if she’s ready to see Noora back. “Umm…” 

“I’ll stay with you,” Chris promises. “If you’d like. I won’t go get drunk and leave you or anything.”

Sana looks into Chris’s eyes. “Okay.”

Chris’s whole face lights up. “Really? You’ll go?”

“Yeah!” Sana feels herself beginning to smile. “Yeah, alright! I’ll go.”

Chris pulls her into a hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!” she laughs, over and over again.


	3. Chapter 3

The day of the party arrives, and Sana’s rethinking everything. Her stomach’s full or writhing, twisting knots, and she can’t decide for the life of her what to wear. All she can think of is, over and over again,  _ Noora Noora Noora Noora...I’m going to see Noora again...she’s going to see me again… _

Sana’s never wished that she could drink more. But also, her stomach’s so messed up that maybe it’s a good thing. The last thing she wants is to be sick.

She pins her hijab tight and puts on her lipstick and perfume like she always does before a party, and stares at herself in the mirror, tries to force herself to feel like a human again.

 

Chris meets up with her outside her building, and then the two of them take the bus up to around Eva’s house. “You feeling okay?” Chris asks her as they watch the streets go by.

Sana’s so nervous she wants to scream. But Chris looks so concerned, and she loves Chris so much. “Yeah,” she says to Chris, “I’m fine. This’ll be fun.”

They knock on Eva’s door around 20:00 and it’s clear by the way she and Vilde open the door that they’re both at least halfway sloshed. Maybe even three-quarters. “Heyyyyy,” she drawls out. “Oh my God, Sana! You’re here! Wow!”

Eva pulls Sana into a messy, one-armed hug, beaming wildly. Sana smiles too, and feels a bit of the bundle of nerves in her stomach untie itself  a little. Vilde gives her a hug too, one hand clutching a bottle of white wine. It feels like every other pre-game the four of them have done together--or at least, it does until Sana comes through the door, and sees Noora standing behind them. Unlike Eva and Vilde she looks completely sober, and she’s holding a bottle of Orangina. 

“Hey, Noora,” Sana says, as casually as she can.

Noora gives her a quick smile. “Hey,” she says. Nothing more.

It goes quiet for a second, or it feels like it does, even though Chris and Eva and Vilde are chatting cheerfully behind her. Sana looks at Noora, and Noora seems to be trying her best not to look like Sana. And then Eva bursts in again and goes, “Okay Sanaaaaaa, what do you want to drink? We have soda, juice, water, and--” she bursts into giggles.  _ “Alcohol.  _ What do you want?”

Sana laughs. “Umm, you got apple juice?”

Eva takes Sana’s face in her hands and pulls her close. Sana realizes that her heart has begun to beat very fast, and she can’t help but notice Noora’s face rapidly changing behind her.  _ “YES!”  _ Eva exclaims very loudly, then lets go of Sana and dances away. Sana still feels a bit in shock over what happened, so she can’t think of anything to do other than follow Eva to the kitchen.

 

The party’s going hard by the time they get there, music pounding so loud Sana can hear it from half a block away. Once they reach the door and Eva flashes a smile at the Penetrator guy who’s hosting, they’re pulled with the crowd into the swirling world of smoke and dancing and music and bodies. Drinks get thrust into their hands (Sana manages to pawn one off on some overenthusiastic third year) and then they’re on the dance floor, and everything melts away for a moment. She’s caught up in the sound and the light and the people around her, faces blurring together until she can’t tell who’s who. At one point, she feels her hip pressed against someone else’s, swaying up against her to the heavy thrum of the bass. Sana leans into it, lets the rhythm take her away…

Until she sees a flash of white-blonde hair as she leans back, until she realizes that it’s Noora,  _ Noora  _ leaning up against her, moving with her, pressed against her, and she freezes for a moment--until a new song starts playing, bass vibrating into her bones, and she decides, just for tonight, to just  _ go with it. _

 

By the time the party breaks up, Vilde and Eva and Chris are all completely trashed, hanging off of the door handles and each others’ hands and, of course, the shoulders of their sober friends.  _ Worse than trashed,  _ Sana thinks as she struggles to drag both a staggering Eva and Noora around,  _ trashed, smashed...THRASHED, all together.  _ Tomorrow, her friends are going to be popping ibuprofens like candy.

But Sana’s almost grateful for her two friends draping themselves across her like she’s a living, breathing coat rack. Grateful because she can focus on getting them home, to safety, and  _ not  _ focus on the massive, bright-pink, fire-breathing elephant in the room, which is that Noora’s the only other sober one here. And she’s also helping her drag her friends home. 

They walk in silence, the only sounds around them the lopsided, dragging steps of her friends and their occasional drunken giggles, until Sana realizes that she doesn’t know where she’s going. “Shit,” Sana says, “where are we going? I can’t take them back to my place--”

“We can take them to mine,” Noora answers immediately. “I live in a kollektiv with two other people, one of which almost definitely won’t be spending the night--they’re welcome to crash.”

“Okay,” Sana says. And then, because it feels like the right thing to say--”Thank you.”

“Of course.” Noora nods. And then it’s quiet again.

 

Noora’s apartment is in a tall, cream-colored building. Sana takes a moment to stare up at the darkened windows before she follows Noora through the door. It’s cozy inside, dimly lit with two couches pushed together corner-to-corner--which Vilde, Eva, and Chris promptly collapse on. Sana watches them for a moment as they fall asleep almost immediately, Vilde curled up next to Eva with her head on her shoulder. They look so quiet, peaceful, safe--Sana tries to breathe with them for a moment, slowly in and out. Tries to repress the feeling that her heart is about to explode, it’s beating so hard.

“Can I make you some tea--or something?”

Noora’s standing in the doorway to what looks like a kitchen, holding two mugs. She’s pulled on a sweatshirt over her party outfit, and that with the mugs and her mussed hair makes her look so warm and homey, framed against the soft kitchen light. The sight very nearly leaves Sana breathless.

“Okay,” she says. 

Noora breaks into a grin. “Okay, I have Earl Grey, green, apple, lavender--”

“Apple sounds great.” Sana finds herself smiling back.

“That’s my favorite!” Noora clinks the two mugs together and disappears back into the kitchen.

Sana sinks into a chair by the couch. She has no idea what she’s doing. She has no idea what Noora’s doing. But maybe it’s the adrenaline from all the dancing before, maybe it’s the second-hand marijuana she’s inhaled, but something inside her’s telling her that she should stay. And she decides to trust her gut.

Noora comes back with the tea, steaming hot in the mug. Sana takes it and thanks her, and Noora sits down in a chair next to her. Sana blows on her drink a little to cool it down. It smells good. Sweet, with a bit of spice. The steam clings to Sana’s eyelashes a bit.

Sana becomes aware of how quiet it is in the apartment. She doesn’t know if Noora’s roommates are there or not, but if they are, they must be fast asleep, and all she can hear is the sounds of breathing and the faint humming of the fridge in the next room. Vilde and Eva and Chris are all asleep too, Vilde snoring softly into Eva’s shoulder. Chris flops over onto her back and lets out a loud sigh, breaking the silence. 

Sana glances at Noora, and her heart jumps when she realizes Noora’s looking back. Sana can tell she’s biting back a smile, and Sana feels a smile begin to spread across her face too. And some laughter. Suddenly, she’s bursting into giggles and she sees Noora doing the same, hand clapped over her mouth to muffle her laughter. She laughs, and laughs, and tries to calm herself down so she doesn’t wake up her friends, and laughs until she’s gasping for air, tears leaking out of her eyes. And all the while Noora’s there, laughing with her, eyes shining. Sana can’t stop grinning. She takes a sip of tea. It’s the perfect temperature now, warming her bones from the inside out.

It’s quiet again, but a more comfortable silence than before, just the two of them sipping their tea. Without even realizing it, Sana finds herself glancing over at Noora from time to time. And Noora’s always looking back, a small smile on her face and a flush on her cheeks. Or maybe she’s just warm from the tea.

As Sana drains the last dregs of tea from her cup, she realizes how late it must be. After midnight at the very least. It’s warm and comfortable now, sitting in this room, but she’s got to get back home. “Ahh, I should be getting home--”

“I’m still in love with you, Sana.”

Noora speaks quietly, but firmly and quickly and Sana can’t believe she’s anything but dreaming. “What?”

“I’m still in love with you.” Noora speaks clearly, voice not wavering at all. Her eyes hold Sana’s captive. “I’m still in love with you, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t ready--couldn’t accept myself and what I was feeling, and you got hurt because of that, and I’m so sorry. But I’m still in love with you and I’ve been thinking a lot, and I’m ready. I don’t want to hide myself or how I’ve been feeling anymore. I’m sorry I made you lie. And I’m not going to do that anymore.”

Sana can’t speak. She feels like her heart’s about to throw itself out of her chest.  _ I’m still in love with you...Noora’s still in love with me… _

She thinks back, to middle school and the thousands of messages they exchanged, to the encouragement, the love, everything that they shared. To Noora, the first person she came out to, the first person she said  _ I love you _ (or at least the middle school equivalent of  _ I love you)  _ to and  _ meant  _ it, not just in a friend way. And then to when she disappeared, left her with a broken link and a deactivated URL and no explanation as to  _ why,  _ until she showed up again and told her that she loved her, but she couldn’t let anyone know. And now Noora still loves her. Now she’s saying she's ready.

Sana sees that path again, clear as when she was thirteen. And it's the same choice again, between isolation and safety, or love and risk. And Sana remembers the choice she made before. Now, she doesn't regret it. 

“Noora,” Sana says, not knowing exactly where she’s going but trusting she knows what to say,  _ “I forgive you. _ And I’m happy for you.” She reaches over to take Noora’s hand.

Noora looks up at her and beams, and it’s like the sun’s come out in this tiny, dark apartment. And maybe that’s what makes all Sana’s doubts go away, allows her to say, “I love you too, Noora. And--and I’m ready too, I think. But I need you to promise that you won’t disappear on me again.”

Noora’s eyes are filled with tears as she whispers, “Of course not, Sana. Never. I won’t do that to you ever again.”

Sana feels her eyes welling up too. There really is something magic, here tonight. And Sana feels that magic, that spark, when she reaches up and pulls Noora close. And kisses her on the forehead. And Noora laughs and cries a little into her shoulder and holds her too, and whispers,  _ I love you, I love you. _

 

They stay together that night, curled up next to each other on the floor. There’s no room left on the couches, and Noora senses Sana’s unspoken anxiety about staying in her bedroom, so she goes and gets pillows and a duvet cover, and the two of them lay down on the wall-to-wall carpeting.

Sana doesn’t really sleep, she doesn’t think, but she spends that night in a dreamy haze, face buried in Noora’s soft, sweet hair. Occasionally, Noora turns around to press a kiss to Sana’s forehead, cheek, eyelid.

They whisper a little together too, all the things they've wanted to tell each other before.

“You remember that girl I told you about, Jamilla?” Sana asks. Noora nods. “She came out last year. She's a lesbian too. I really-I really wanted to tell her, but I was too scared. She's really the coolest, though.”

“Hmm.” Noora traces patterns on Sana’s hands. “Do you think you might tell her now?”

“Definitely.” Sana grins at her. “I can't  _ wait  _ to tell her about you.”

“Aww,” Noora beams back. “I can't wait to meet her.”

 

“Do you know,” Noora breathes later, inches away from Sana’s face, “I realized last year I'm a lesbian? I dated this guy and then I realized--no men for me, ever.” She reaches over to stroke Sana’s face. “I'm only for girls now.”

“Wow,” Sana breathes. “That's--that’s wonderful, babe.” She kisses her on the forehead. “I'm still bi, I think. I still like the guys. But I'm all about the girls too, you know--at least, one girl in particular.”

“ _ God,  _ I love you,” Noora murmurs and pulls her close. 

 

All the sounds of the quiet apartment--the refrigerator, the soft breathing and snores and sighs of her friends, and the quiet ticking of a clock somewhere--blend together, and Sana melts away into the comforting haze.

 

“What the  _ hell  _ happened last night?” 

Eva’s groggy, hangover-thick voice cuts into Sana’s subconscious, pulling her back into reality. 

“I don’t know.” Chris’s voice joins Eva’s. “Can’t remember shit. I know it was  _ epic,  _ though.”

“Epic enough that Sana and Noora are friends now, apparently,” Vilde chimes in.

Sana realizes that all the voices are coming from above her head, and rolls over to look into the eyes of her three  _ very  _ hungover-looking friends. “Sure,” she grins at them as she sits up. “That’s one way to put it.”

Vilde claps her hands. “That’s so  _ exciting!  _ I was worried at first because it seemed like you kind of hated each other, but now you’re all curled up together,  _ so cute,  _ by the way, and now we’re really a united bus, all friends together!”

Noora’s stirring beside her now. She looks up at Sana and winks at her, and Sana cracks up. “What?” Vilde demands. “What’s so funny?”

Chris stares at the two of them. “Oh my gosh,” she says, “Oh my  _ gosh!  _ Sana, you foxy little lady, you!”

Noora sits up next to her and takes Sana’s hand. “So, we may have something to tell you…” she says.

 

Vilde’s mouth has dropped open by the end of the story, and she’s looking wildly between the two of them. “You two--you  _ knew  _ each other before? And you met again? That’s like--you two must be  _ soulmates  _ or something!”

“That’s what I said!” Chris exclaims. “Crazy, right?”

“That’s so cool,” Eva says, “congratulations! And I’m sorry to interrupt, but can we  _ please  _ get some coffee around here? My head is  _ killing me.” _

“Of course, Eva.” Sana glances at Noora, and Noora smiles back. She wraps her arm around Sana’s shoulder and plants a kiss on her forehead. Chris lets out a wolf whistle, and Vilde bursts into giggles. “You  _ two,”  _ she says happily, gazing dreamily into space. 

_Or,_ Sana notices, _not exactly space, but at_ _Eva…_

“Right backatcha, Vilde,” Sana says, and winks.

Vilde blushes bright red, but smiles and leans a little into Eva’s shoulder. “So, coffee?” she asks.

“Of course!” Noora stands up, and offers her hand to Sana. “Babe, will you help me?”

Sana beams at her. “Absolutely!” She reaches up and allows Noora, her  _ girlfriend,  _ to pull her up. 

_ Chris or someone must have opened the curtains,  _ Sana reflects, because the room just feels so bright, and warm, and beautiful. And as the five of them go into the kitchen--Chris rummaging through drawers and pulling out pots and pans, Noora guiding Sana  _ very carefully  _ through how to work the coffee press, Vilde and Eva sitting next to each other on the counter, knees pressed together--it feels as though, at least for one small moment, everything is exactly as it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr @ lesbianshaydixon!!!!


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